The Queen's Legion
by BurningStorm
Summary: Two years after the Queen had accidentally frozen Arendelle, the kingdom is abuzz with the royals' latest news and rumors seem to litter the streets with anticipation. What can Queen Elsa do? And can Princess Anna be of help this time?
1. Prologue

**([AN: Book Cover credit goes to UKthewhitewolf for the background, wikia for the Elsa pic, and I [the author] don't know who had made the pic of the guy. If you, dear reader, DO know, please tell me so I could credit him/her. Anyways, sorry if the story's description seemed much more interesting than this prologue! This is my first time writing a Frozen FF and I want to show the improvement of Elsa and Anna's relationship _but_ that won't be the main focus here. If you stay a little longer, though, you just might find out _what _in the_ world_ this story is about. Please tell me what you think! Comment, review, favorite, follow! Also, this story is in my Wattpad account under the same username.])**

* * *

**Prologue:**

The heat beat gently against the cobblestoned streets as the kingdom of Arendelle bustled with life. Though most stores and taverns were closed, the people of Arendelle flocked the streets as they made their way into the castle. Though it was normal for the people of Arendelle to visit the castle—it had been two years since the Incident, as they have started to call it—they never seemed to tire of the excitement entering its four walls seemed to bring. What made this moment even more exciting, though, was the enticement of an announcement. An announcement was to be made that morning by the royals and the people were all buzzing with excitement over what it could be.

Rumors and gossip moved from ear to ear as people tried to guess what the big announcement was. Some suggested that the queen was pregnant—how that was possible, nobody knew—while others said that it was one of the royals' birthdays. No one knew the true reason, and this mystery is what kept the people so motivated.

In the castle, the inhabitants were just as animated. Servants and staff flew in and out of rooms, chattering and celebrating the news they already knew. Those unaware tried to catch whatever word came their way. Even the princess and queen were enthusiastically talking about it as they made their way to their "Announcement Balcony" as Princess Anna had teasingly named it.

"I just can't believe it," Anna sighed dreamily.

"Well, you better _start_ believing it," Elsa smirked slightly, nudging her sister playfully before standing in front of the enormous double doors. She smoothed down the wrinkles off her dress and stood straight, reclaiming her regal, poised façade. She glanced at how Anna looked and noticed the little smudge of chocolate on the shoulder of her dress.

Anna looked down, trying to find whatever it was that her sister had noticed and gasped exaggeratedly at the dirt. An embarrassed blush spread across her cheeks and she scratched at the smudge with her fingers.

"It must have spilled on me when I had gotten a quick bite earlier," she scratched at the dirt, getting more and more frustrated at the empty results. "Ugh! It won't get off."

"Just," Elsa placed a gentle hand on hers, stopping her from scratching off the cloth completely. "Let's just try to cover it."

Anna's hand fell limply to her side as she nodded and gave in to her sister's suggestion. "Alright, what did you have in mind?"

Elsa smirked at her sister as she waved her hand over the spot of dirt. Cold, beautiful wisps of ice shot out of her hand, gently tangling itself into Anna's dress and turning into a simple but beautiful snow lily over the smudge. It completely covered the dirt, but Anna's shoulder quickly grew cold.

"Okay," she shuddered at the cold feeling on her shoulder and pushed open the doors leading to the balcony. "Let's get this over with."


	2. Preparations And A Rumor

**([AN: I do not own anything or anyone in Frozen. But I wish I owned Sven... Haha, anywho, enjoy the chapter and comment or review!])**

* * *

**01: Preparations And A Rumor**

The streets of Arendelle were adorned with flowers, ribbons, banners, and streamers. Arendelle had gone all out for this celebration. Flowers arranged into heart shapes, banners sown into hearts, and red and white ribbons tied around practically everything. Children giggled, parents snuggled, and couples stole kisses in the most romantic places they could find—which was practically everywhere! It was as if the kingdom were celebrating Christmas and St. Valentine's Day all in one week!

"Oh, I can't wait to see the princess," a young woman with curly blonde hair sighed, tying a red ribbon to her window. She wore a simple red dress with a red apron tied around her waist, matching the blinding reds and whites that decorated the kingdom.

"It's just the engagement celebration," her friend—a wavy haired brunette in the same clothing but a yellow dress, instead of red—shrugged, sticking a paper heart on the door. "It isn't the wedding yet."

"But I bet she'd still be beautiful," the blonde reasoned more to herself than her friend, a goofy grin on her face. "Oh! Nothing will ruin this engagement celebration!"

"The bandits might," a young man with curly brown hair interrupted the conversation, dropping an armful of paper hearts, ribbons, and flowers on the ground.

"Oh, Jens," the blonde scoffed at the young man—Jens. "Where in the world did you hear that? Bandits? In Arendelle?"

The brunette nodded in agreement—the mere idea seeming ridiculous, continuing to decorate as she argued, "Who would be stupid enough to go against Her Majesty, Queen Elsa?"

"But didn't you hear?" Jens continued with a pout. "The Legion is making their way through Norway and might drop by Arendelle."

"The Legion?" the brunette repeated warily—as if speaking the group's name would cause them to appear. "The infamous band of thieves? I thought they were in Germany…"

"Apparently not," Jens started to inform them. "I heard some rumors that the infamous thieves were heading this way—just passing by, so they say. So your beloved little engagement party just might have some trouble."

"All you heard were _rumors_, Jens," the blonde retorted defensively, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"But it could be true!" Jens argued childishly.

"Oh, just shut up you two," the brunette snapped, shoving decorations into the arguing pair's arms. "Now finish up the decorations for the shop. You know how the boss gets with unfinished work."

The two sighed as they obeyed the bossy brunette and went back to work, their chatter of rumors and celebrations forgotten.

* * *

Her cape flapped and trailed behind her as she paced up and down the floor, forming trails of little ice crystals in her wake. She bit worriedly on her bottom lip as her brows furrowed in deep thought, her platinum blond hair messily tied into a bun.

"Elsa!" a happy, young voice chirped as the double doors of the room burst open. A strawberry-blond haired girl bounced into the room excitedly. "Elsa! Elsa!"

The pacing girl—Queen Elsa of Arendelle—jumped at the sudden interruption but smiled at the sight of her younger sister.

"Anna, what is it?" the young queen asked, the anxious feeling ebbing into the excitement that came off Anna in waves.

"I finally found an _amazing_ chef for the wedding!" Anna exclaimed, jumping up and down happily. "I mean, not that Chef Nils is _bad_ but Chef Magna's chocolate truffles and moist chocolate cake is just _divine_."

Elsa chuckled at her sister's excitement, realizing that the news wasn't as big as it had seemed to be.

"Anna," she smirked slightly at her. "Your wedding is in eight months."

"I _know_," Anna sighed, exasperated. "Which is why I'm starting preparations now. So much to prepare in such little time!"

Elsa bit back her laughter at her sister's dramatics—she knew she wanted the wedding to be perfect.

"You're exaggerating," Elsa chuckled, walking over to her and wrapping her in a hug.

"Maybe just a little bit," Anna sighed as she melted into the hug. The pair stayed in that position for a few more minutes before Anna pulled away slightly, examining Elsa's face with a knowing look. "Now, what's got you so worried?"

"What?" Elsa stepped out of Anna's reach, her voice rising slightly in pitch. "I-I don't know what you mean."

"You're horrible at lying, Elsa," Anna quirked a brow at her, crossing her arms over her chest as she tapped her foot impatiently. "Now, what's wrong?"

Elsa sighed as her shoulders slumped, knowing that she couldn't hide anything from Anna for long. She took in a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as she explained her predicament—or worry, really.

"I had heard news from around town that the infamous Legion were going to pass Arendelle soon."

"But—" Anna tried to calm her older sister but Elsa was just getting started.

"True, all I heard were rumors but, Anna, have you _heard_ of what these criminals have done?" before Anna could even open her mouth, Elsa ploughed on. "They've stolen priceless art pieces, royal jewelries, statues of _emperors_, and—what makes them so dangerous, Anna, is that they've _kidnapped_ heirs to not only noble families but even to _royal families_. They're dangerous, Anna—heartless."

"Well, they do _sound_ dangerous," Anna agreed, finally able to put her word in after Elsa's seemingly-never ending spiel. "But I'm sure that not _all_ of them are heartless."

Anna placed a calming hand on Elsa's shoulder as the young queen tried to calm and collect herself. She evened out her breathing and placed a pale, cold hand over her hammering, overly worried heart.

"And no matter how true or false this rumor is," Anna reassured. "We'll find a way to fix it together. Just like we've been doing for the past year."

Elsa nodded in agreement, feeling her shoulders relax in comfort. She realized that Anna was right. There was nothing she couldn't conquer with her sister by her side. A mob of bandits or not—she wasn't going to let anything go wrong in her kingdom while she still lived.


	3. Les Gens

**AN: Follow, Favourite, and Review! Tell me if you thought it was lacking (which I did) or if you liked it. I need some help with this story, it's my first time writing a Frozen fic and there's only so much research and re-watching you can do to make your writing better. Anyways, enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own all of the characters in this chapter except for Queen Elsa of Arendelle and the Duke of Weselton (who were mentioned in this chapter)**

* * *

He watched as they set up camp, the map of Norway grasped tightly in his hand. He leaned casually on the tree behind him, his dark olive green hood thrown over his tousled black hair. His piercing, cider-coloured eyes scanned his surroundings thoroughly, managing to look disinterested with his posture. As his eyes wandered to the tents, a freckle-faced brunette jogged up to him, a proud grin showcasing his crooked white teeth.

"Flint," the raven-haired man—or boy, on occasion—straightened as he greeted the older fellow. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," the tall, much more mature-looking man waved away his worries. "I just thought to tell you that all the tents are up, the fire is almost made, the food is being prepared, and the rest are all awaiting your orders."

"Right," the younger, but seemingly in-charge man nodded. "Tell them to rest before supper. I'll be giving the plans then."

"Yes, sir," Flint saluted half-heartedly before spinning on his heel and jogging back to the middle of the camp.

"So what is this great plan of yours, oh wise captain?"

A teasingly sarcastic voice asked him from behind and he turned his head to see a lanky young man smirking at him.

"Conan," the raven-haired man smiled in greeting. "I thought you were helping Corwin look for herbs?"

"I _was_ helping Cor, but we finished earlier than we thought," the weary eyed Conan replied. "Now, what _do_ you have planned, Tyson? You really should tell your best mate."

"Just because you're my best mate doesn't mean I have to tell you everything," Tyson quipped, messing the nest of black hair on his head.

"But I'm also your second-in-command," Conan reasoned. "You should at least tell me the basics so that I could make some back-up plans—just in case."

"We don't need back-up plans this time," Tyson reassured his friend. "Just trust me—this will be a brilliant plan."

"But—"

"No, no," Tyson stopped his protests. "Just leave it to me. I have it all handled."

Conan sighed, realizing that he couldn't change his mind. He gave his friend and leader a pat on the back before he turned to leave. "Alright, Oh Great Captain Tybalt. Have it your way."

Tyson rolled his eyes at the teasing jab of a nickname—having stuck around after an old man had misheard him and started calling him Tybalt—and smacked the back of his friend's head before making his rounds around the camp. He threw orders left and right as he passed tents and idle men and women. As he neared his own tent at the edge of the camp, a lightly tanned boy bounded towards him.

"Tybalt!" the boy greeted, tackling the older man in a hug. The boy quickly pulled away, flicking at his side-swept, honey-colored hair. "Ren is asking if she could go into town to buy some ingredients for dinner."

"No," Tyson replied bluntly, ruffling the boy's hair as he passed him without a second thought.

"I'll go with her, if it makes you feel better," the boy reasoned, quickly keeping in pace with the leader.

"No, Petit," Tyson repeated, stopping as he turned to face the youngest member of the group. "She can't go because it would ruin our whole plan. Tell her to just use whatever we have here, okay?"

The boy—Petit—huffed but nodded as he relented. "She won't like that answer, but whatever you say, Captain."

Petit scampered off after an impish salute, leaving Tyson to return to his tent. Though Tyson was called the Captain, he was much more like a general in terms of rank. He was the leader, in a sense, their chief. And as the captain settled into the grass behind his stump of a desk, a loud curse interrupted him from starting to write his plans.

His tent flaps burst open as a cross-looking young woman entered, arms crossed as she glared daggers his way.

"Ren," Tyson sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose as he stood up. "Please, whatever fuss you're about to make, let it be relevant and important."

The young woman—Ren—glowered at the calm young leader, irritated and angry for multiple reasons at him.

"You can't just keep me here, Ty!" Ren argued, hands flying wildly around her.

"I can and I will," he replied easily, crossing his arms over his chest as he towered over her. "I _know_ we still have food left from Prussia, so don't tell me that we're running low."

"Yes we still have food," she hissed. "But I can't make _anything _with that! I'm practically feeding an army here! I have to give them a proper meal or they could very well drop dead in the middle of a fight!"

"First of all, stop shouting," Tyson calmly told her, used to the girl's dramatics. "Secondly, stop being so dramatic. You're not feeding an army and I'm sure the men—and women—can handle a little rationing."

Ren's cheeks puffed in frustration, having no retort to his reasons. She stomped in place until she flew a few curses at him and stormed away. She was always one for dramatics. Tyson sighed in relief as the peaceful silence slowly started to return, and he went back to his work, writing down his plans and such.

* * *

As night settled into the camp, the loud bunch of marauders gathered around the campfire and ate their dinner, their leader sitting in the middle.

"As our next target gets closer and closer, I'm sure you are all sharpening your skills and preparing to strike," Tyson spoke, his eyes dancing with fire and a dangerous grin on his lips. "But this task is different from all our others. You've heard what Lord Weselton had said. We're going against a force much stronger than an army, and much heartless as well—a monster, remember? We cannot let the people of Arendelle live under such tyranny and wickedness."

"We do not clearly know what we are going up against," Conan warned them. "All we know is that the Duke is sure that if this Ice Queen keeps reign over this kingdom, all of Europe could be affected."

The camp replied with silence, their nerves rising as Tyson continued.

"So we're not here to just take a few jewelries and gold. We're here to start an uprising."

"This Ice Queen's reign of terror will end," Conan stated solemnly.

"And this is how we're going to do it," Tyson started to give out the plan, assigning each person with a task best suited to them. He knew this job was something major. It wasn't like anything they've ever done before, but turning from thief to revolutionary seemed like a thrill. And he's always been one to ride on thrills.


	4. The Engagement Party (Masquerade Ball)

**([Hullo again! Thanks to bananas-rule-2015 and even to the Guest who commented, at least someone's reading this! My apologies for taking so long to update, but apparently graduating takes a toll on humans, who knew? I hope you enjoy this chapter! Tell me what you think :) Favourite, follow, and review!])**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Kristoff, Anna, Elsa, or the kingdom of Corona. Sad, right?**

* * *

The hall was filled with masked men and women as lanterns gently glowed above them, courtesy of the kingdom of Corona. Music played energetically through the halls and streamers hung everywhere overhead. Everything was going swimmingly well and Anna excitedly chatted with anyone who would be willing. Elsa took the more reserved approach and talked to whoever she had to, otherwise, she kept to herself. Her eyes carelessly skimmed over the sea of people that filled the room, debating whether or not she should excuse herself in her head. After a few good minutes of inner-arguments, she decided to stay, knowing Anna would be disappointed if she left early.

She decided to occupy her time by the buffet table, knowing that food was probably the best company she'd get. Making her way to the buffet table, she bumped into a familiar head of messy blond hair.

"Kristoff!" she stumbled as he barreled into her. He quickly righted himself and started to apologize.

"My bad! Sorry, Elsa—er, I mean, Your Majesty," Kristoff awkwardly bowed and Elsa laughed at his clumsiness. It seemed his royal apparel was getting the best of him.

"It's fine, Kristoff," she waved away the incident. "I see you're still trying to get used to your suit."

Kristoff sighed, "I just don't understand why the shoes need to be elevated and how the base is barely curved. These pants are also _way _too long, I keep tripping on them."

"You'll get used to it," she tried to sympathize and he replied with a pout. "Now shouldn't you be with Anna?"

"She's off with some villagers detailing them on her wedding plans," he smiled fondly. "I'm actually supposed to get her a drink."

Elsa chuckled, it sounded just like her sister to go off and tell the whole kingdom about her wedding. She's been arranging everything down to the carpet they were going to use for the ceremony and as much as Elsa loved seeing her sister so happy, she was starting to get a little tired of having to tell her which color matched which design.

"I guess I should get her drink now," Kristoff nodded, excusing himself as he headed towards the drinks.

Finding herself alone again, Elsa snatched a few chocolates from the desert table and resigned herself to a seat in the corner, far away from the crowds and the attention. Elsa returned to people-watching as she snacked on her chocolates, taking in the lively ambiance and carefree attitudes of her people and her guests. Whenever she looked upon her people, she could feel nothing but gratefulness for their constant support and encouragement under her reign.

As she looked over the crowd and finished her last chocolate piece, she noticed a dashing young man clad in a black suit and black mask make his way over to her. Immediately, she sat up straighter and took a breath, cleaning her teeth from whatever chocolate might be stuck to it.

"Your Majesty," the man bowed deeply, his smoky voice filling her ears.

"Good eve," she replied with a nod as he straightened. The first thing she noticed once he was in perfect view was that his eyes were a golden-brown, the color of apple cider. His hair seemed to be at odds with itself, a tousled mess of black hair that bent to one side as if someone had tried to tame it. His attire was a simple red shirt under a black suit, with black pants and a black cape. Like his suit, his mask was simple, a plain black mask that covered half his face—from the top of his forehead down to his jaw.

"If I may be so bold, I have a request for Her Majesty," he smiled, his eyes shining mischievously down at her.

"I can only grant what is possible," she continued to be cordial, though her curiosity stirred. Who was this stranger? Was he really a stranger? Could he be one of her people? Or was he a foreigner paying his respects to the engaged?

"My only wish is for a dance with Her Majesty," he grinned and it took all of her willpower to stop herself from looking around and asking, "Me?" For one, she was never all that skilled in dancing and she really had no interest in embarrassing herself in front of such a charming young man. Secondly, she did not know this man, then again, everyone was in masks, so it was fairly hard to tell if she recognized someone or not. The only reason everyone recognized her was because of her crown—or so she told herself, really, it was because of her obviously hand-made ice mask.

"I'm sorry, but I don't dance," she managed to reply, remembering that the gentleman was waiting for her.

"Well then I'll lead you," he offered her his hand, an encouraging smile as he waited for her to accept.

"Really, I can't," she politely declined, gently pushing away his hand as she stood from her seat. "I'm sure there are many other women willing to dance with you."

"But none of them are you," he pressed and she sighed. This man was so insistent.

"If I dance with you once, you won't ask me for another?" she bargained and he chuckled, a low, husky sound.

"Whatever you want, Your Majesty," he bowed before offering her his hand once again. Reluctantly, she took his hand and he led them to the dance floor just as the orchestra started a slow tune.

He took her hand in his and placed her other on his shoulder, placing his free hand on her back as he led the dance. Her eyes were glued to her feet, careful to follow his graceful steps and not step on his feet. Her focus was broken, though, by his deep voice saying, "You know, Your Majesty, you never asked for my name."

She looked up to see a teasing smile on his lips as his piercing gaze settled on her. She quirked a brow as a challenging smirk tipped her lips and she retorted just as teasingly, "Who said I wanted to know?"

"And here I thought I'd captured Her Majesty's curiosity," he feigned hurt, the playful tilt of his lips giving him away.

"I just assumed you were in mourning," she joked and he chuckled at her reply. "But, to soothe you, I shall ask anyways. What is your name, good sir?"

She looked into his eyes to see something flash in them before their playful light glowed again. Before she could ask about it, though, he replied, "I am Tyson Proulx, Your Highness, and it is an honor to have danced with you."

Just as he finished introducing himself, the song ended and she found her hands feeling cold—an unusual thing seeing how her ice powers have made her indifferent to the cold. He bowed respectfully before stepping back, "Thank you for the dance, Your Majesty."

"Wait," she surprised herself as the words slipped from her mouth. When he paused and turned to her with a questioning gaze, she froze—metaphorically, of course. "Um… Uh… I was, well, maybe… Uh…"

"I must stop this insurmountable amount of eloquence before even you overwhelm yourself, Your Majesty," Tyson teased. "And since I assume that dancing is not quite your forte, may I offer to get you a drink?"

"Yes," she managed to regain her bearings. "I would… like that."

He chuckled in reply as he offered his arm and she took it with a sheepish grin. They grabbed some drinks from the refreshment table and found a quiet spot to chat.

"So, Sir Tyson," Elsa started, trying to get to know more about the stranger.

"It's Tyson," he corrected, a hint of sadness in his voice. "I'm nothing special."

Elsa looked up to see a flash of _something _go through his face, but just as soon as she blinked, it was gone. A sympathetic smile graced her lips, "I'm sure that's not true. You probably have something in you that no one else has. It's just hiding somewhere in you."

"Well, if you find it, Your Majesty, I would be delighted to be informed of whatever _it _is," he teased, bringing back the light atmosphere.

Her lips twitched as a smile threatened to break free and Tyson continued to use everything he knew to try to get the ever-so-graceful queen to smile and laugh. Just when he felt she was about to crack, a castle attendant rushed in—pausing to regain his composure for just a second before swiftly making his way over to the queen.

"Excuse me," her regal air returned as she moved quickly to meet the distressed looking man. They spoke in hushed tones, but the gravity of whatever their topic was was evident in their rigid movements. With one nod from the queen, the man took off and she made her way to the center of the room.

"May I have everyone's attention," Queen Elsa's voice rose through the chatter and music. The room was quick to acquiesce to her request. "Thank you. Now, there has been an incident concerning certain—"

"There are people jumping out of the castle!" a voice in the crowd shouted, and all eyes turned to the windows. Black shadows with blobs following their fall stood out from the night sky. The shadows landed on the castle walls and jumped off, disappearing into the waters.

"It's a raid!" another voice concluded. And that was when all hell broke loose.

"Now, everyone, please, just—" the queen tried to pacify her people, panic slowly etching onto her face as the crowd started for the doors.

"They shall kill us all!"

"They will burn the castle down!"

"My child! My son! Where is my son!"

"Your Majesty!"

Elsa turned to see Tyson fighting his way through the sea of people, his eyes swimming with a mixture of emotions—worry, panic, frustration… guilt? But as she moved to meet him, she was pushed back by the crowd, stumbling slightly. When her eyes rose again to find him, he was gone.

Great. First time she meets a nice guy, he goes missing, on the same night she gets stolen from, and on her sister's engagement party. Just great.


	5. A Red Alert And Hideout

**{[AN: Hello awesome readers! I know it's taken FOREVER and I am terribly, terribly sorry! I have no excuse, really, because school should never be an excuse, so I will just thank everyone who is still interested in this story and for all the support! You guys make writing this worth it :)) And just a warning, it _will _take me longer now to write chapters but I will _not _stop writing this story. It'll just take a long, long, _loooonnnggg _time. Hope that doesn't turn you off :/ Anywho, I own nothing except my favourite group of thieves x)) Hope you all enjoy!]}**

The band of thieves were as merry as can be after such a successful heist.

"We did it!" a tousle haired blond cheered, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

"And with barely a scratch on us," a heavily built tower of a man agreed, laughing as he gave the blond a cheery pat on the back.

"Speak for yourself," a balding young man grumbled as Ren dabbed wet cloth over his wounded arm.

"You didn't even get that injury from the raid," the blond, Connor, laughed. "It's just your luck to have tripped on a root and fallen on a rock while we made our way back."

"Still," the bald man, Darcy—or Bonheur, as he is called, weakly argued back.

"Just enjoy the success, Bonheur," a wavy haired lady—Beda Sangster—replied as she pulled a crown out of one sack. "We were all brilliant."

"As proud as I am of everyone," Conan, second-in-command interrupted the group's festivities. "Has anyone seen Tyson?"

"The Captain probably got caught up in the crowd," Connor shrugged, taking the situation lightly.

Corwin, their resident healer, refuted lightly, worry etching his tone, "But Tyson's never done that. No matter the situation, he always gets out as fast as possible."

"You don't think they took him, do you?" Bonheur voiced out the thoughts of many members.

"Why would they? They don't have anything that shows he was involved," Connor refuted, trying to bring the lightheartedness back into the atmosphere. "And we're talking about Tyson here, everyone—Our Captain, the Great Leader Tybalt. If he was ever in such a position, he would find a way to let us know—or to let at least _one _of us know."

"But what if—" Corwin started but was interrupted by a loud squeal.

"You pudding-headed _oaf_!"

The group turned to see Beda pounding on their leader's chest as he stared at her in amusement.

"Are you done?" he asked, before she gave him one hard slap to the back of his head.

"Now I'm done," she sniffed, enveloping him into a hug right after.

"I'm _alright_, Beda," he chuckled, returning the hug before pulling away and reassuring everyone else. More hugs and back-pats were exchanged until the group was satisfied in knowing that their leader was not captured or dead. The joyous festivities continued soon after, which Tyson took as an opportune moment to talk to Conan privately.

"What is it? What took you so long?" Conan asked once they were far from hearing range.

"Nothing bad," he reassured him. "But, I think we were wrong."

"Elsa?" Anna knocked on her sister's door before opening it without a reply. Elsa sat behind her desk, scribbling furiously as she gave commands to the guards that stood in front of her.

"Just a moment, please, Anna," she replied, never looking up from her parchment as she returned her focus to the men. "You shall take only five men with you each. Do nothing to alert the people of your search and be as unassuming as possible. I remind you that the army will _not _be involved in this task, so I put full responsibility of anything that happens into your hands and trust that you will proceed with caution. I expect your reports and findings in three days. You are dismissed."

The three men standing in the middle of the room saluted smartly before turning on their heels and marching out. Anna cautiously approached her sister's work desk, knowing how on-edge she must be.

"Elsa?" she repeated.

Letting out a deep sigh, Elsa shuffled her papers into order and waved for her to take a seat. "What is it, Anna?"

"Well, I know you're really busy right now," she started. "But I don't think you should overwork yourself like this."

"What else can I do?" she griped, massaging her temples. "This whole _Legion _fiasco is slowly throwing the kingdom into chaos!"

"I know, I know," Anna tried to calm her. "But you're doing everything you can right now, aren't you? Don't burn yourself out this way."

From her temples, her fingers moved to the bridge of her nose. It's only been a few hours but she hasn't been able to get any sleep. The bags under her eyes were growing and her headache's been growing since the incident. Her time's been filled with writing documents, holding cabinet and council meetings, talking to her spies, and wearing out the castle's floors.

All day and night, all that's filled her thoughts were the robbery, the ball, and the guy she danced with last night.

"Okay," she rubbed her eyes. "I'll try not to overdo it."

Taking one hand, Anna rubbed soothing circles at the back of her sister's hand, a sympathetic smile on her lips. "Why don't you try to sleep? Even for just a while?"

"But what if—"

"No, no buts," Anna stood, pulling on her hand for her to stand as well. "No queen can function properly without an appropriate amount of sleep. Take a nap, even for just an hour."

"I don't know…" she frowned, though she didn't resist.

"I'll make sure to wake you up _right away_ if anything happens," Anna assured her as she led her into her room. "Now please, take some rest."

"Alright, but if I hear anything at all—"

"Then you can do your work," Anna guaranteed. "I won't disturb you or try to stop you. I just want you to take some rest, no matter how short."

A grateful smile bloomed on her lips as soon as Anna had her sit on the bed. "Thanks, Anna."

Her sister smiled back, tucking her in. "Take a nap, Elsa. I'll wake you up soon enough."

Elsa fell asleep as soon as she was tucked in, knocked out from exhaustion. Anna quietly walked out of the room, letting the guards assume their position before making her way out to the castle stables.

"So how is she?" Kristoff asked as soon as she stepped in.

"Well, I managed to get her to sleep—for now, at least," she sighed, nuzzling Sven when he offered.

"You'll both get through this, you'll see," he tried to encourage her, taking her hands in his.

She smiled in response, squeezing his hands gratefully. "Let's just hope we come out unscathed."


	6. What Had Really Happened

**([Ohmygoodness, dear, awesome readers {if there are still any} I am so, ****_so _****sorry this update took forever! I haven't forgotten this story! I really have no appropriate excuse but I've been busy with the uni life so all I can do is apologize over and over again. I'M SORRY! My updates may take forever, but I promise you I will ****_finish _****this story. So sorry again, everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter!])**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Arendelle, Elsa, or Frozen. I do own my cutie babu thieves, though :3**

He was torn. His thoughts swirled around his encounter with the ice queen. She was _nothing _like they'd been told and it caught him completely off guard to meet such a dorky, adorable ruler. His head was bowed and his legs stretched out as he massaged his temples to keep the threatening headache away. It was in this position that Conan found their fearless leader, bent over with his back against a pine tree.

"Are you still thinking about that night?" Conan interrupted his thoughts, falling into the spot next to him. "It's been a whole night."

"I just can't get it out of my head," Tyson sighed, letting his head lean against the trunk as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"I told you, she could have been acting. We know that news of our arrival had trickled across the countries, she could have been on her guard against _everyone_. Also, there were other royals in the room, she could have been holding a façade for them as well," Conan reasoned, having talked about this the night of the heist when Tyson had told him of his concerns.

"But I can't—it seemed so _real_, Conan," Tyson deflated. "She seemed so real."

Conan sighed, unsure of how to get Tyson to see reason. The night after the heist, Tyson had told Conan everything and he had given him his thoughts—this didn't seem to appease him, though, and he decided that instead of making him overthink it, he would distract him.

"Have we told you how we pulled the heist off?" Conan broke the silence as he turned to him with a small smile.

Realizing what he was doing, Tyson sighed as a small, grateful smile tilted his lips and he shook his head. "No, what happened?"

"So it all started with Neil…"

_Neil Harlow may have been an amazing ruler if he hadn't decided to join the raiders' life, but his decisions had him using his skills in other ways. One of these ways being his ability to get guards to let them through many, many doors. His extensive knowledge on royals, the nobles, and certain legal terms and names got him far in the grandiose Arendelle castle._

_Using some incredibly confusing excuse (it included jargons that simple guards couldn't wrap their minds around), Neil had gotten him, Ren, Durand, and Flint through until the Queen's office. Guards waited outside and Durand—an incredibly burly looking man (whom he called his bodyguard)—had taken this opportunity to search for a map or anything that could lead them to the kingdom's treasure vault. Of course, this involved a lot of lock-picking while Flint—normally the group's medical man—worked on contacting the others. Ren was the quick, sure-fire brains of the group, she could get them out of sticky situations at the drop of a hat._

_Finally, Durand had found what they needed and Neil called the guards in. Once they entered, Ren and Durand knocked them out and took their uniforms—they were hoping that the guards weren't all that familiar with one another for this plan to work smoothly, but if they did, then Durand was always more inclined to violence._

_Flint stayed with the unconscious guards, tying them up and continuing to contact the others as Neil, Ren, and Durand continued—Neil and Durand in the stolen uniform. The uniforms didn't seem to really help them blend in, with Durand's uniform being three sizes two small and Neil's being a size too big—the trio couldn't care any less, though, as they neared their destination._

_In front of a very, _very _small door stood six guards—two standing in front of the door, two beside it, and two pacing back and forth in front of it. They were clearly outnumbered and they hoped the others would arrive soon._

_Meanwhile, Conan and Connor were playing the part of waiters, making sure that their actors kept the crowd busy and the people distracted. Connor was off wooing some poor maiden, Beda was talking to Princess Anna herself, distracting her with a million questions that the excited bride-to-be didn't seem to mind—if anything, she seemed more than happy to answer the girl's inquiries. Petit, the youngest member of the group, was distracting Kristoff by being playfully annoying—or annoyingly playful, either or. Bonheur was humoring some aristocrats with his unintended slapstick and the rest of the gang were off helping the others with the actual heist._

_He hoped thing were going smoothly with them but didn't bother worrying about it. He himself had a job to do, he thought as he continued to serve drinks to the unwitting guests._

_Corwin, Leal, Aidan, and Flint arrived minutes later, just in the nick of time. The guards had spotted the trio lurking a few seconds before their arrival and were ready to confront a speechless Neil. Durand had thrown a fist and the trio were almost captured when they arrived and managed to save them. It was a wreckless move on Durand's part, but things seemed to work out for the best._

_They dragged the unconscious bodies out of sight and picked the lock on the tiny door, with only four of them big enough to fit through. Neil, Leal, Ren, and Corwin pushed themselves through the door and found themselves surrounded by enormous piles of gold, silver, jewelry, stones, and diamonds. _All _the sacks they brought wouldn't be able to hold the money in the vault._

_So they wasted no time filling their first sack and stuffing it out the door. This took a few hours and by the time they were done, barely a tenth of the vault was missing. The four pulled themselves out the room and each carried three sacks, making their way towards a window facing the side of the fortress that would lead to the forest._

_As Durand picked the windows' locks, they heard some voices down the hall and realized that the men they'd knocked out had come to. With much more urgency, Durand tried to pick the locks but his fingers couldn't seem to pull and push them the right way, so Flint had them all stand back and started to kick the window open. The other men understood what he was trying to do and helped, quickly making a crack, and then a hole, until it became a giant space in the window. The group took their sacks and prepared to jump out, the voices growing stronger and angrier. Once the footsteps became a thundering sound, they all jumped out the window and into the dark embrace of the night._


End file.
